


[Working Title] Not a Cake Topping

by Night-Mare (Aoife)



Series: Cradle 'verse [17]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Flame Active Character(s), Gen, Intersection between Dying Will Flames and Roman Catholicism, Pre-Canon, Side Story, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare
Summary: Part of theCradle 'verseHow Lambo and Ganauche (only he's not Ganauche, yet) end up on the Cavallone Estate.





	[Working Title] Not a Cake Topping

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Hand That Rocks the Cradle Rules the World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10607250) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare). 



He's on duty in the Iron Fort when the toddler was brought in; the capo who had dragged the little kid in - so Flame Active it made his head hurt, and his own mostly latent Flames _ache_ in sympathy, life and death; that was what Activating one’s Flames that thoroughly needed, which meant the brat had been thoroughly traumatised - had tossed him in front of the Ninth, had complaining that 'the brat had tried to steal from him, and when he'd backhanded the kid he'd gotten shocked'. He suspects that the capo in question was trying to buy himself a favour by bringing the Ninth what was obviously a strong baby Flame User - a Lightning, a useful potential meat shield when the kid was a bit older - and while the tale was a bit exaggerated - bravado and all that bullshit - he can see the thread of truth woven into it. A baby Flame User on the streets for some reason, desperate ...

He's not expecting what happens next; not even with the rumours of the Ninth trying to Seal the Falco Heir, Cavallone Decimo's ward, after the boy immolated his father. Fuck, it wasn't like the toddler was dangerous; not yet, not until he learnt to wield his Flames properly, and care and attention would have him wielding them _for_ the Ninth, and it wasn't like strong Lightnings grew on trees; if nothing else whatever heir the old man ‘found’ would need a Guardian. But there are Sky Flames on the Boss's hands and the way he reaches towards the kid breaks something in his head; he wasn't really going to Seal the kid was he? Right in front of everyone. Fuck, Flames were your soul made manifest. They were fucking _sacred_. There were pictures in Flame Families' chapels of Christ and the Virgin Mary with Sky Flames for fuck sake, and endless stories of how Saints’ miracles were creditable to Flames. His own Flames, barely Active, sparked, ignited, and he was moving almost before he realised what he was doing, snatching the kid up and _running_.

His Flames and the kid's Flames conspire to get them out of the Fort; he'd have been shot multiple times without the Lightning barrier they instinctively create between the two of them. The only place it makes sense to go, the only person he was aware of trying to stand up to the Ninth, who was clearly going _insane_ or senile to have tried to do that in front of witnesses, was the Cavallone; he hoped that the Bucking Horse would give him and the kid sanctuary. Their Don might be young, but he was Reborn-trained and had what he’d realised _had_ to be a Varia Name, and had already proven capable of protecting one kid.

There's a _fucking_ pack of Flame Active kids loose on the Cavallone estates. He catches a glimpse of them as he and the kid - Lambo, he’s learnt - make it onto the grounds. They look a lot like a miniature copy of the Vongola's First Generation - he'd have followed, tried to see more, but that's when the Don finds the two of them, a pair of Mists flanking him, and a Storm and two Rains circling, and he sobs in relief. Even if they kill him, that the Cavallone has that little pack of Flame Actives, running around without Seals, freely using their Flames suggests that Lambo'll be safe. What follows dizzies him and he remembers it only as a series of snapshots: the female Mist cuddling Lambo, the older Rain tranquilizing him and the Don, the rage in these adults eyes, the cold eyes of the female Storm softening when the pack of kids approach, and damn. They're _safe_. He’ll make his thanks to the Mother of Christ and all the Saints tonight, for letting them make it to a _sane_ Sky.

 


End file.
